


Immortal Passions

by dairesfanficrefuge_archivist



Category: Highlander: The Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-04-10
Updated: 1999-04-10
Packaged: 2018-12-18 06:07:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11868264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dairesfanficrefuge_archivist/pseuds/dairesfanficrefuge_archivist
Summary: Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived atDaire's Fanfic Refuge. Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onDaire's Fanfic Refuge's collection profile.





	Immortal Passions

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Daire's Fanfic Refuge](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Daire%27s_Fanfic_Refuge). Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Daire's Fanfic Refuge's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/dairesfanficrefuge/profile).

Immortal Passions by JackMagist

| 

**Immortal Passions**

By JackMagist 

**Standard Disclaimer:** This story is based upon the _Highlander: the Series_ television series. The characters: Duncan MacLeod, Amanda Montrose, Joe Dawson, and Richie Ryan and the series proper are the property of Davis-Panzer Productions. The Characters: Kyle O'Leary, Katelyn O'Leary, Brian McGrew, and Geoffrey Worthingham are my own creations, please don't use them without my permission. The references to Zachary come from _Highlander: the Series_ season one episode _The Lady and the Tiger._

Thank you to Alice-in-Stonyland for her encouragement and advice and to Molly for beta reading this work and offering her excellent advice. And, a special thanks to Daire for her work and patience in posting this, my first effort at fanfic. 

* * *

**_Prologue_**

The black thunderbird pulled slowly into the driveway of the theater and glided to a stop at the door. The driver, a tall man with long dark hair pulled back and held with a silver Celtic design clasp, got out and handed the keys to the valet. He went around and took the hand of the woman on the passenger side and assisted her out of the car as the usher held the door open for her. The woman was tall and slender with short cropped black hair. She wore an ankle length black evening dress with a suggestive slit up the left side and a smile that warmed the heart of every man who look her way. And most men did. 

"Mac, I'm so glad you could make it tonight," greeted a short slender man with thinning hair who stepped from the crowd of people who were making their way to the theater entrance. 

"Oh I wouldn't have missed it," the tall man replied. Presenting the lady on his arm, "Amanda, this is Charles Stafford, Dean of the History Department here at the University. Charles this is Amanda Montrose, an old friend." 

"A pleasure to meet you Ms. Montrose," the Dean beamed, taking the hand she proffered and bringing it to his lips, he kissed it gently. 

It was a charming effort at gallantry that he somehow couldn't quite bring it off. But with a dazzling smile that belied the amusement that twinkled in her eyes, she replied, "How nice to meet you Dean Stafford." 

As the three of them moved to join the throng that circulated in the lobby, the Dean and Duncan MacLeod discussed the benefit performance of the dance troupe known as The Irish Review that they were there to see. The Dean thanked Duncan profusely for the generous contribution that he had made to the new library fund. 

As they crossed the lobby for the stairs, suddenly both Duncan and Amanda stopped short as they felt the familiar tingling of the Presence of another immortal. With a sidelong glance at one another they proceeded on toward the stairs but they both surveyed the crowd with newfound interest. 

The two spotted their quarry at almost the same time. He wore wire-rimmed spectacles, a neatly trimmed thin mustache and had close-cropped curly brown hair. Shorter than MacLeod at about six feet and slender he still appeared solidly built and moved with the practiced ease common to those who have lived the long life of an immortal. 

The stranger was also searching the room with intense interest and soon his eyes lighted upon Amanda. With a shocked expression his mind was sent on a wild ride, careening back to a time and placed that he had not contemplated in years, perhaps even decades. 

* * *

**_1742 Near Worthingham Castle - Northern England_**

He was a young man dressed in the riding attire of a young nobleman of the early eighteenth century mounted on a spirited young stallion that he was training to the hunt. The wind was in his face and the exhilaration of the ride shown plainly upon his face as he raced the skittish horse toward the low wall that rose up before them. Leaning forward in the saddle preparing for the jump he was caught completely off guard when the fat hare sprang out in front of his mount startling the beast into an abrupt halt and a sideways leap. The young man was thrown from the horse to land head first against the stone wall. He remembered the sound of bones breaking in his neck before lapsing into blackness. 

When he jerked upright sometime later it was dark and he could hear the sounds of a search party. Rising to his feet and shaking off the dust and straw, he realized that he felt better than he had in days. He had been fighting off a cold for the last two weeks and his wisdom teeth had been hurting from cavities developed before they broke completely through the gums. Now his sniffles were gone and so was the toothache. 

It was not until a year later that he had felt the strange sensation, like a static charge prickling his skin, for the first time. Then he had meet Jonathan Gage, the first immortal he had ever encountered and his first teacher. For two years he had studied with Jonathan, learning the ways of immortality and the rules of the game. They had worked hard to improve his swordsmanship. While he had been fairly competent with a sword so he had thought, he soon learned that facing an immortal swordsman was an entirely different matter. He had been a hard worker and a quick learner but still couldn't legitimately compete with his newfound friend and mentor. 

Then came the day when he went out to the woods that had become the accustomed meeting place for his lessons with his friend and mentor. As he rode across the fields he was assaulted with a strange sensation as the eerily quiet white colored lightning flashed from up ahead in the woods. He arrived to find the body of his friend atop a small hillock with his head lying at the bottom of a shallow ravine on the backside. 

It had been scarcely three days since he had buried his friend when he had again felt the Presence of another immortal as he rode through town. It was then that he had first laid eyes on the woman who stood before him now in the theater lobby. 

Amanda's mind too had taken a flight back in time. _She had been passing through Northern England when she had stopped in her travels for a few days rest at an inn in a small hamlet there. She had encountered a young immortal who had stared at her with a look that combined utter fear with utter hatred. He had said nothing to her, just merely ridden away as fast as his horse would take him._

It had been the next day when she was preparing to leave town that the constable and several of his men had accompanied the young man to the inn and she had been arrested. She was shown some documents, which had her signature forged upon them and had been taken to the debtor's prison without so much as an appearance before a magistrate. 

* * *

The two immortals were drawn from the recesses of their memories by the sound of Dean Stafford's voice. Seeing the intense stares that passed between the two the man had thought it best to make introductions and hope there would be no trouble. The undercurrent of tension was unmistakable. 

"Ms. Montrose, Duncan, this is Geoffrey Worthingham. Mr. Worthingham is a new professor in our English Department," the Dean introduced. Turning to the newcomer he began, "Geoffrey, I'd like you to meet..." 

"Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod," the Highlander broke in smoothly, extending his hand to the man, "This is my friend Amanda Montrose." 

"Yes, Mr. Worthingham and I have meet. It was some time ago in England," Amanda offered. 

"Yes, I could never forget so lovely a creature. It was in my younger days when I was...before I started my post graduate work," Geoffrey put in, eyeing Amanda as he shook MacLeod's hand. 

"Perhaps we can get together later to...discuss old times," She replied in an icy tone. 

Dean Stafford was a perceptive man and noted the utter strangeness of this encounter. The undercurrent of tension between Ms. Montrose and Geoffrey Worthingham was unmistakable. And, there was the way Duncan's Scottish brogue had thickened so markedly and the additional "of the Clan MacLeod " title to his introduction, a reference that the Dean had never before heard the Scotsman use. He knew that there was some strange and powerful dynamic working among the three and it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, but he had no idea why. Feeling now ill at ease with this group, he excused himself and went off to find more comfortable surroundings and work the crowd for donations for the Library Fund. 

"Perhaps we can _talk_ later," Amanda suggested politely but pointedly. 

"Yes, we must get together to _talk_ ," Worthingham responded, letting his eyes remain locked with hers a moment longer before he turned to Duncan, "Well, If you'll excuse me I believe it's almost curtain time." 

With a nod to MacLeod and the flick of a last venomous glance at Amanda, he departed. 

Mac and Amanda made their way slowly up the broad stairs to their seats in a box overlooking the stage. Mac was greeted by more faculty members and administrators from the University along the way and made introductions to Amanda. 

"Do you know everyone MacLeod?" she asked after the umpteenth introduction. 

"No, not everyone. I don't know your friend Worthingham," He replied leading the way to their seats. 

"Worthingham is _not_ my friend," the icy edge was back in her voice. 

"So I gathered. So what happened? Did he catch you stealing his family's jewels?" Mac teased. 

"Funny MacLeod," she responded with a glance that threw daggers and a haughty toss of her head, "No, that little worm had me thrown into debtors prison and I didn't even owe him anything. It took me three months to get out of that place. I had to convience another prisoner to kill me then the gaurds carried me out and threw me in the charnel pit. They guarded their debtors then more closely than they guard murderers now." 

"Why would he do that?" 

"How should I know, I had never seen him until the day before he had me arrested. And then only long enough for us to recognize each other for what we are." 

The lights in the theater went down and the crowd quieted interrupting their conversation. The performance began a modern rendition of traditional Irish folk dances. As the performers took the stage the two immortals seated in the box felt yet another Presence from the stage. 

"We're out en masse tonight it seems," Duncan remarked. 

The dancers on stage twirled through their choreographed steps into another formation and the Presence became a confusing sensation that seemed to split and then come together. 

With a curious look to MacLeod, Amanda asked in a low voice, "Is there one or two? I can't tell." 

"And, which one or two? I don't think I've ever felt anything like this before," Mac responded quietly. 

By the time the performance reached it's conclusion, the two immortals believed they had pinpointed the buzzes as coming from two of the dancers, a man and a woman, both appearing fairly young. The sensation had been difficult to fix upon, as it had seemed to be first in one then in the other and in both only as it shifted between them. Amanda had spotted Worthingham from his third row seat scanning the stage with equal consternation. And, she thought she had seen one of the immortal dancers fix his gaze momentarily upon the English professor. 

At the private reception that followed the performance several of the dancers and the dance troupe leader put in appearances, but neither of the immortal dancers nor Geoffrey Worthingham were present. The rest of the evening passed pleasantly and uneventfully. Dean Stafford stopped to chat but he did not ask about the tension filled scene in the theater lobby. 

* * *

**_The Next Day_**

It was the middle of the afternoon when Amanda swept into Joe's. _Just explodes into the place_ , Joe thought with a wry smile and a little shake of his head _Amanda never simply walks in anywhere_. No matter how many times he saw her do it, he was still amazed at how she seemed to take over a room when she entered. 

"Hi Joe," she beamed with an ever-flirtatious smile. 

"Hello, beautiful," Joe drawled, smiling as Amanda dropped an arm load of shopping bags on a table and took a seat at the bar. "What'll you have?" 

"Something cold," She said, letting out a long slow breath and relaxing into the seat. 

"Hard day shopping?" he asked, indicating the packages as he set a glass of chilled Chablis in front of her. 

"Oh, I just needed to pick up a few things" she replied, with a dismissive air. 

Amanda sipped her wine as Joe busied himself checking the stock behind the bar. He already knew from a conversation with Amanda's watcher that she had flown into Seacover two weeks earlier and was staying with MacLeod. And he knew she had left Miami in something of a hurry. Her watcher hadn't been a witness but he was sure that she had taken two Celleni statuettes from the private collection of a wealthy entrepreneur. There had been nothing in the paper about it but of course, Miami was a long way from Seacover. 

Joe was pondering the possibility that Amanda was again going to involve Mac in one of her schemes when he noticed Amanda stiffen in her seat and begin glancing expectantly toward the door. He was about to ask if she was expecting someone when the door opened and a well-dressed man sporting wire rimmed spectacles and a thin mustache entered the bar. Joe moved away and again made himself busy down the bar where he feigned disinterest. But, with the acuity of a trained Watcher, he observed. 

The man was slender but athletic in his early to mid twenties. He moved with an ease and grace that suggested long hours of training in either dance or the martial arts. Joe suspected the latter. The stranger moved to the bar and stopped two stools down from a warily watching Amanda. 

"What'll ya have," the bartender drawled. 

"Scotch if you please," the man replied with a clipped British accent. Then turned to Amanda with lips that smiled and eyes that did not. 

"All right," she began with a glare that went right through the stranger. "What do you want?" 

With a glance at Joe, Worthingham gestured to a table by the wall and said, "A moment of your time...for now." 

The two immortals retreated to a table and took up their conversation in quiet but emphatic tones. 

"You've been following me all day and I don't feel like playing cat and mouse. So, what is it?" Amanda demanded. 

"Two hundred and fifty years ago I couldn't have hoped to beat you. But, I'm in better practice now," he began. 

"So, now you're a head hunter," She stated rather than asked. 

"Only your head," he replied. 

"My head, why me? You're the one who had me thrown in prison. I would have taken your head when I got out but you had already left for India. Anyway, I'm over it now so you don't have to worry about me if that's your problem," she declared. 

"What you are or are not over is not my concern. I will take your head to exact revenge for the death of Jonathan Gage, my friend and teacher. I would have done so back then in England but I knew that if you could beat Jonathan I stood no chance against you. I am no longer that unskilled young novice who had you sent to prison to escape combat with you. And now, I offer my challenge. Will you meet me tonight or will I have to hunt you down. Now that I've found you I will not lose your trail," the youngish looking English professor sat straight in his chair, head back and awaited her answer with a look of firm resolve. 

"I don't know what you're talking about. I don't know any Jonathan Gage and never have," she replied with a shrug of the shoulders and upturned palms. 

"I do not believe you. You were the only one who could have killed Jonathan. There were no immortals in the vicinity except for you," he insisted. 

"We don't have to do this. I've gotten over what _YOU_ did to _ME_ , and I've done nothing to you. It's senseless," she pleaded. 

"Then you refuse my Challenge?" he asked. 

"There's no reason...." 

The incensed Englishman interrupted, "Then you are the c _owardly harlot_ that I have always heard you were. What did you do, tempt Jonathan with your body and take his head unawares? There will be no place safe for you _whore_! I will hound your every step..." 

"YOU dare call me cowardly after what you did! I'll show you who's a coward you cheap little imitation of a Nobleman! Just tell me when and where!" A livid Amanda's voice grew louder as she rose bumping the table and spilling drinks. 

"Hey, is there a problem there?" Joe shouted coming around the end of the bar brandishing his cane. 

Calming quickly, Amanda went to Joe saying, "It's okay Joe, just an old misunderstanding. It's nothing." 

Joe stood glaring at Worthingham who, having risen from his seat, returned the gaze with implacable features. Then the Englishman turned and stepped to the bar where he wrote a quick note on a napkin, which he handed to Amanda. Then he turned and strode from the bar leaving a bewildered Joe and a very angry Amanda. 

"It was a challenge wasn't it?" Joe demanded. 

He was back behind the bar as a waitress, somewhat disgruntled until she found the twenty dollar tip the Englishman had thrown down, cleaned up the mess at the table. Amanda sat again at the bar with a fresh glass of Chablis. 

"It's a long story Joe and I don't have time to explain," she said. "I'll tell you all about it tomorrow if you'll just do me one favor." 

Looking into big dark eyes that had been charming men for over a thousand years, Joe too came under their spell. 

"I know I'm gonna regret this. What is it?" 

"It's not anything really. Just let me change and leave my things in your office," she said coyly. Then leaning closer, she added, "And don't tell MacLeod about what just happened." 

"Oh, Amanda. You know I can't..." he began. 

"But Joe, you're a Watcher, if you tell him you'll be interfering," she reminded him. 

"You only want me to remember that when it gets you what you want," he huffed. 

"I promise I'll make it up to you and you can tell him all about it if I'm not here when he arrives, which should be any minute now," she pleaded. 

"But you could get killed, Amanda," He protested. 

"You know the Game Joe. It's just the way it is," her matter-of-fact tone stopping any further argument. 

Joe let her use the office to stash her things and change her cloths and she was gone inside of ten minutes. 

MacLeod stood in the doorway of Joe's Bar letting his eyes adjust to the light and wondering why he felt no buzz. He entered the barroom taking in the scene with the air of one accustomed to danger and made his way to the bar. 

"Hi Joe. Seen Amanda?" he asked. Nodding to Joe who held up a bottle of his favorite scotch. 

"Hi Mac...Yeah, she was in a while earlier," Joe responded as he poured a glass for MacLeod and another for himself. 

The look on his friend's face and the tone of his voice told Mac that something was wrong. He took another quick look around the bar, sipped his scotch and asked, "Okay Joe, what is it?" 

"There was someone else here too...an Englishman. They talked and didn't seem to be any too friendly." Joe admitted, "After the guy left, Amanda changed clothes left her shopping bags here then took off." 

"Where did she go?" Mac inquired. 

"Don't know. She wouldn't say and Amanda knows how to shake her Watcher whenever she wants to," the barman explained, "But, she was dressed for action. Wore a long coat like she wanted her sword handy to get to. Of course, I think she could hide a broadsword in a bikini." 

"She must have challenged him then. I've meet the guy you're talking about, they have a history." 

"I got the feeling that it was the other way around. Like he was challenging her," Joe said, wiping an imaginary spill from the bar between them. 

"Did they leave together?" Mac asked. 

"No, he handed her a note. Directions I think, but I couldn't see what he wrote," Joe hesitated then continued, "I tried to talk her out of it Mac but she seemed pretty determined to go through with it. I'm worried, the guy moved like someone who could handle himself." 

"He probably can Joe, but so can Amanda. She's managed to stay alive for a long time. And, if she has decided to meet him there's not much either of us could do about it." 

Finishing his drink the Highlander started for the door saying as he went, "Thanks Joe, let me know if you hear anything okay." 

"Yeah Mac, sure," the bartender responded, picking up the empty glasses and taking another swipe at the bar. 

* * *

**_Later That Evening_**

The campus of Seacover University was dark in the area around the burned out library. The electricity had not been restored after fire had destroyed the east wing of the building, leaving the main hall and the west wing of the structure condemned. The entire building was slated for destruction so the planned new Library could be raised in its place. The books and equipment that had survived the fire had already been removed leaving the building an empty husk. 

Amanda approached the old building with caution, moving from shadow to shadow in the manner of one long experienced in the arts of the professional thief. She was surprised to hear the sound of swords clashing and see the flashes of their sparking as she reached the open door to the undamaged west wing of the building. It was obvious that immortals were already engaged in combat for only the swords of two immortals would spark in such a way. And, she could feel the telltale buzz of their Presence. Deciding to play it safe, she moved away from the door and slipped around the back of the building heading for the burned out east wing. She wanted to find who was involved in the fight before they saw her, and she felt there would be less chance of being seen hidden in the shadows of the burned out walls and fallen in ceiling supports of the damaged wing. 

Making her way among the rubble of the old library, Amanda again felt the oddly shifting Presence that she had witnessed in the dancers at the previous night's performance. She peered into the open area of the library lobby expecting to see two people engaged in swordplay but was surprised to see three. Worthingham was fighting alone against two opponents, one male and one female, both slender, graceful and cat quick. He held his own quite well, driving one back in time to parry an attack from the other but he was constantly on the defensive with no chance to attack. Both of his opponents were skilled though he felt that he could have beaten either of them in a one on one combat. As it was he could take nothing for granted and it required all of his skill just to keep them at bay. 

They had come upon him unexpectedly while he stood awaiting the arrival of the immortal thief he had been seeking for two hundred and fifty years. The dancers had set upon him without the courtesy of an introduction, giving him no chance to ask any questions. The lithe young male had accosted him from the front attempting to disarm him quickly. With his attention fully focused upon the man the young girl, or so she appeared, had tried to slip in behind him to take him in the back. Only the strange shifting of the immortal buzz the two of them seemed to share, shifting to her had alerted him to her presence. He had instinctively shifted his position to put both of them where he could see them and now they both pressed him, and tried to circle behind. 

Amanda was shocked at what she saw. It was completely against the rules of the game and she had never heard of such a thing having happened. Of course, other immortals had cheated in various ways so it wasn't so surprising after a moment. She even recalled with a twinge of guilt how she had taken the head of Zachary, her old partner in crime, after MacLeod had fought and disarmed him. She shrugged away the memory thinking, _That was different_. 

She contemplated coming to the Englishman's rescue and started to rise from where she crouched behind a fallen roof timber, but it was too late. Worthingham slipped on some piece of debris on the floor and lost his rhythm for just an instant. An instant was all it took. The saber in the hands of the female immortal flashed in finding his ribs just under his sword arm. His other opponent's broadsword knocked away his own in the moment of his weakness and imbalance. Then the female's saber was through his breast and into his heart. The English professor slumped to his knees gasping in astonishment. Amanda watched in morbid fascination as the two immortals stepped to either side of their fallen foe. With a practiced nod to one another their strokes took his neck at the same instant. 

The two strange immortals stepped clear of the body and embraced. Their lips meet in a passionate kiss as the misty essence of the quickening swirled from the headless body of their fallen victim. They writhed in the throes of erotic ecstasy as the power flowed into them. The wind whirled around them whipping in their hair, then the lightning bolts of immortal quickening began striking them, flowing through them and arcing between them. And still they held on to one another without relinquishing their embrace. 

Amanda hesitated, considering going in and taking them both before they could recover from the quickening, when a bolt of power, electrical in appearance but magical in nature, struck the weakened beams above her head. The scorched remains of the roof collapsed around her and one of the beams pinned her to the floor. By the time she had wriggled free of the ruin the two immortals were disengaging from their obscene embrace to recover their swords. They were both still a bit unsteady on their feet but so was Amanda. She decided that the heads of the two macabre lovers could stay on their shoulders...at least for now. 

The two immortals recovering from their quickening had felt Amanda's Presence and had quickly recovered their swords. They were annoyed that they didn't have time to enjoy the afterglow of their erotic quickening and they did not want any witnesses to their actions, especially immortal witnesses. Together they stalked after Amanda, out of the burned out library, across the campus and on into the night. 

* * *

**_The Following Morning_**

Duncan MacLeod paced the floor of the loft stopping to stare at the phone every few minutes. He had gone to the dojo after leaving Joe's and had used the computer to hack into the University records for Worthingham's address. He had gone there hoping to find Amanda but could not feel the Presence of any immortals. After searching all of the places he could think of that Amanda might use for a duel he had given up and returned home to the loft. Sleep had been impossible though he chided himself for it. He knew that Amanda could take care of herself and there was nothing he could have done had he found her. If she had been engaged in combat he would not have interfered, it was forbidden by the rules of the game. But, if he had been there, at least he would've known her fate and would be able to deal with it. It was the not knowing that so distracted him. 

Even as he paced and worried he wondered at his own reaction. Amanda had set him up to take the fall for her misdeeds countless times, yet still she ran to him every time she was in trouble. And for some reason he kept taking her back in; kept coming to her rescue; kept worrying about her head. 

The familiar feeling of the Presence of another immortal interrupted the Highlander's musings. He retrieved his katana and stood facing the lift door awaiting the arrival of his guest. The lift stopped and the gate opened to reveal a very tired and bedraggled Amanda. Her clothes were covered in grime and soot, and her coat and pants were torn revealing the fresh pink of newly regenerated flesh. 

"What the hell happened to you?" the Highlander demanded as he came to her aid. 

Taking the supporting arm he offered and still limping slightly the exhausted immortal moved to the sofa and fell onto the cushions. 

"I have been running all night Duncan. Could you get me something to drink?" she pleaded. 

"Running? Running from whom? Worthingham?" he asked, moving to the kitchen counter to retrieve a glass of water. 

"No, Worthingham is dead," she replied with an exhausted expulsion of breath. 

"Then what?" he returned handing her a glass filled with cold water. 

She sat up and drank deeply before responding, "I didn't take Worthingham's head, Mac. We were supposed to meet at the old library at the University but when I arrived he was fighting those two dancers from the Irish Review." 

"You mean he was fighting one of them," Mac interjected expectantly. 

"No he was fighting them both at the same time," she corrected. 

"But that's against the rules," he protested. 

"Yeah well, rules or not they fought together and they shared the quickening. It was like a sexual thing for them, really weird," she shook her head in wonderment as she spoke. 

"So what happened? Why didn't you leave while they took the quickening?" Mac wondered. 

"The quickening brought down the roof on my head. By the time I got out they were recovering and coming after me. It took me all night to lose them but I finally did about an hour ago down at the train yard. I didn't want to lead them here but they'll be coming after me again Duncan, I'm sure of it," she explained. 

"Why don't you get a shower and rest awhile, then we'll see what we can find out," he suggested, "I'm going to go warn Richie what to expect if he runs into them or if they do show up at the dojo. I'll be back in a few minutes." 

Several hours later Amanda awoke to the smell of cooking veal. She stretched and yawned then drew on her robe she sauntered to the breakfast bar and hopped up on a stool. MacLeod placed a plate of steaming veal Parmesan in front of her and handed her knife and fork, before taking a seat with a plate of his own. 

"I thought you might be hungry," he said as he took his seat. 

"Thanks, I'm starved. But veal Parmesan for breakfast?" she said tasting her first bite. 

Mac shrugged and responded, "You missed breakfast that was hours ago." 

They ate the rest of their meal in silence. While Amanda woke up more thoroughly and contemplated the events she had witnessed, Mac was lost in his own thoughts about the incident of the night before. 

"While you were asleep I made a few calls to see what I could come up with. After you're dressed we can head over to Joe's and get your things. I'll fill you in on the way," he suggested. 

Washing down the last bite of her food Amanda agreed. "Okay, I'll go get dressed, give me a few minutes." With that she gave him a quick kiss and headed for the bedroom to get ready. 

* * *

Joe was on stage practicing with the band. They were working in a new base player and Joe felt the sound was a little ragged but it was starting to come together. The new man had only joined them the day before and was just now starting to get the feel of rest of the group. 

The door opened spilling the bright afternoon sunlight into the moderately lit bar. A tall man with a ponytail and a tall slender woman with close-cropped dark hair were silhouetted as they entered. Mike, the bartender recognized the couple immediately and greeted them with a wave. 

"Hi Mac, Amanda, what'll it be?" the bartender called. 

"Scotch, Mike," the Highlander replied. 

Amanda nodded her agreement with the choice when the bartender looked to her. The couple took a seat at a table near the stage to listen to the band practice and wait for Joe. 

The band worked through a slow blues number that was a favorite for dancing among the regular customers at the bar. Then Joe called a halt, "Okay guys, that sounded pretty good lets call it quits for now and we'll try it out tonight." 

Making his way off stage he turned to the soundman at the side of the stage he added, "Tommy, lets try a little more base tonight, Joey's getting the feel." Tommy nodded and Joe headed to the table occupied by his two immortal friends. 

"Sounds like your new man is working out okay," Amanda commented. 

"Hi Amanda...Mac. Yeah, he's working in pretty well. A little raw but he's got talent," Joe replied. He held up a hand to signal Mike for a drink then pulled out a chair to take a seat. 

"So, I see you're okay Amanda. I take it I'll be getting a report on the other fellow...Uhh, what was his name?" The Watcher asked casually. 

"Worthingham," Mac supplied 

"Yes well, it won't be my name on the report. Something strange happened there last night. Somebody beat me to him, somebodys actually," Amanda told him. 

"Somebodys?" Joe lifted his eyebrows in surprise and confusion. 

Mike brought Joe a drink and fresh ones for Mac and Amanda. Then Amanda explained the events of the previous evening. 

Joe looked thoughtfully at her as she finished her tale, "I think I've heard of them. Rumor a few years ago had a couple like that in Ireland but they shook their Watcher and we haven't caught up with them since. They like to keep moving.... Makes 'em hard to keep up with." 

"They're dancers in the Irish Review. We saw them a couple of nights ago at the University Theater," Mac explained. 

"So you think they're after you?" Joe asked Amanda. 

"They chased me all night. I don't know if they'll keep looking or not," she replied. 

"Let's take a look in the database and see what we can find out?" The Watcher suggested. 

The immortals followed Joe into the office in the back of the bar and waited while he started the computer and entered his password. Out of habit from long years as a thief Amanda attempted to surreptitiously observe the keyboard as the Watcher entered the password, but had her view obstructed by a scowling MacLeod. With a quizzical twist of her head, she turned pointedly away and waited for the database program to come up. 

"I'll do the search for known rule breakers," Joe explained. 

"Known rule breakers. You mean it's that common?" Duncan demanded. 

"Common enough, most are minor things. But some rules, like violating holy ground, no one will break," the Watcher explained. 

The computer buzzed through its search sequence and displayed a list of names. 

"Hey wait a minute, what is _MY_ name doing on that list?" Amanda demanded. 

With a chuckle Joe explained, "Well there was that thing in Paris a couple years ago with Zachary." 

"That was only once," she protested. Then added pensively, "Besides, he deserved it." 

"Well we just observe and record," Joe drawled. "Ahh, here we go. Is this them?" 

The immortals bent over the computer desk to gaze at the screen. There were pictures of a young couple holding hands as they walked through the streets of Dublin, and one of each of them separately. The trio at the computer settled down to read the synopsis of the couple from the screen. 

* * *

**_1878 Near Salado, Texas_**

Two men sat top the wagon seat. One, a young man of about seventeen, held the reigns to the two-mule team that drew the wagon along. The other, an older man who looked a robust forty, slouched back with his feet up drinking from a fired clay jug. The road was muddy from three days of hard cold rain but the sky was clear and the sun was shining brightly, warming the men as they went on their way. 

A young girl of about twelve, in a ragged sack dress, her feet wrapped in rags and a tattered blanket wrapped around her for warmth trudged along the side of the road struggling through the mud. As the wagon rolled past, the older man sat up suddenly and looked closely at the girl. "Stop the wagon Kyle," he ordered. 

"What is it Mr. McGrew?" the teenager asked as he pulled the team to a halt. 

"Ye there...Girl," the older man called. 

The girl was frightened but she came near the wagon anyway hoping for a hand out. 

"Can ye cook, girl?" McGrew asked in a strong but kindly tone. 

"Yes, sir," the waif responded meekly. 

"How'd ye like a job? I don't like cooking, an Kyle here's cooking ain't fit to eat," the man declared. 

"Yes sir. I'd like a job and I can cook real good," the girl responded, brightening at the prospect of regular meals. 

"All right then, climb in the back there and mind where ye set. Don't mash none o' them groceries," he instructed. "What's ye name child?" he asked as she climbed nimbly over the tailgate. 

"They call me Katelyn, sir," she replied as she sat down on a sack of flour thinking she wouldn't hurt it. 

"Let's go Kyle. Now maybe we can get a decent meal, eh?" McGrew jested. then turning to Katelyn he continued, "I'm Brian McGrew, this here's Kyle. I run a way station for the Overland Stagecoach Company about five miles up the road, got a livery stable and blacksmith shop there too. Usually get two stages a day and the passengers are hungry so's ye'll have ta have a meal ready when they gets there. Ain't got time ta wait whilst ye cook it. Think ye can handle that?" 

"Yes sir," the girl replied almost in a whisper. 

They continued on to the way station and got settled in and quickly fell into a routine. They all worked hard but had a good life, if not exactly happy. Brian McGrew was a big man standing about six foot four with hard lean muscles. He had gruff manners but treated the two youngsters in an evenhanded if demanding way. They worked hard during the day and often late into the evening. 

In the evenings they often sat around on the verandah that McGrew and Kyle had built and McGrew would tell stories about his Irish homeland. It had been in Ireland that Kyle O'Leary had come to him as a lad of twelve and asked to apprentice to him as a blacksmith. The big Irishman had not taken an apprentice in years but had agreed to accept Kyle. Two years later when a drought struck and times got hard they had shipped out for America. They spoke of Ireland with such fondness that Katelyn developed a desire to see the beautiful green lands of which they spoke. 

Katelyn told them how she had been raised by an old woman named Maude Chandler, a widow who had served her small town as a midwife and healer. Some townspeople had brought Katelyn to Granny Chandler when they found her at the edge of the woods as a baby. Granny Chandler had agreed to keep her until the mother was found but she never was. Granny had taught Katelyn to cook and take care of a household and had treated her well, but the old woman had died when Katelyn was almost ten. After Granny Chandler's death, she had then been taken in by another family but had been beaten for any small accident or misdeed and had run away. She had lived on her own in the streets for two years. 

A town grew up around the way station with only a few businesses, a general store, a saddle shop, an inn with four rooms for rent and one small tavern served the increasing traffic along the stage road. Kyle, fueled by Katelyn's hardy cooking and hardened by the work in the livery and smithy, filled out into a tall, strong young man. Meanwhile Katelyn filled out as well, developing firm full breast, curving hips and long shapely legs. The two of them began seeing one another in a different light. They would spend what little free time they could find walking across the meadow down by the stream that flowed there. McGrew, who appeared much the same as he had when he had picked up the orphan girl, saw what was happening between them but didn't mind as long as the work got done. Though he too appreciated the beautiful woman Katelyn was developing into. 

It was late one night about six years after Katelyn had come to live with Kyle and McGrew. Kyle was in the stable making repairs to a harness in order to have it ready when the stage arrived the next morning. Katelyn was in the kitchen laying out the supplies for the next day's meals. McGrew came home from the tavern having drunk even more than usual, and he was a man who liked his liquor. He stumbled in through the back door and stood starring through bleary eyes at the young woman as she went about her chores. 

"Ye've really formed out to a fine looking woman ye have, lass," the man slurred. 

"Thank you, Mr. McGrew," Katelyn replied feeling very self-conscious as the man watched her. 

Coming up behind her he placed his hands on her hips and drew her back against him, nuzzling his face against the back of her neck. The young woman began to try to move away but he put his arms around her and held her even more tightly. 

"Please Mr. McGrew, let me go," she begged. 

"Haven't I been good to ye girl," he asked sliding his hands around to her breast. 

"Yes sir, you have been, but please let me go," she pleaded and continued her attempt to extricate herself from the unwanted advances. 

He turned her to face him and roughly kissed her. His breath reeked of whiskey and his body stank from want of a bath. The young woman was thoroughly repulsed and tried to push him away but he was too strong. The more she struggled the more McGrew seemed to enjoy himself as he forced his unwanted affections. She managed to free her right hand and raked her nails across his jowls. Enraged, he threw her to the floor knocking her breath away. And there on the kitchen floor he took her, brutally and against her will, his mouth covering hers and biting her lip to stifle her screams. 

Sated, the drunken man released her and climbed shakily to his feet speaking as he rose, "There now sweets, that weren't so bad now were it." 

Katelyn lay on the floor crying in humiliation and disbelief. Her clothes were torn, her lips were bruised and she bled from her ruptured virginity. She looked up at the man who had always been kind to her even if a stern taskmaster. Now instead of the kindly man, who had saved her from starvation in the streets, she saw the brutal rapist he had become. She was confused and hurt both physically and emotionally. And she was filled with rage. 

McGrew staggered to a chair and sat heavily. He looked at the girl on the floor and sneered, "Get up girl ye ain't been done no real harm. Hell a couple of tumbles wi' ole Brian an' ye'll be liking it right well. Now get up an' get me a jug, ye hear!" 

The battered young woman drew herself up and started along the wall toward the backdoor. She stopped short at the howl of rage that erupted from her drunken employer. 

"Aaahhrrr, I said get me a jug did ye hear! And don't go slinkin' off to cry to Kyle or I'll have both ye're heads," he yelled lurching from his chair and coming at her. 

The rage in his eyes frightened her and reflexively she grabbed a carving knife from the kitchen counter. McGrew lunged for her only to be meet by the blade driven through his heart by his own weight and momentum. The man stepped back a step and pulled the knife from his chest, looked up at the girl and laughed, then slumped to the floor dead. 

Katelyn was in a panic and ran to her room intending to gather a few things and run away. She had thrown a few cloths in a pillowcase and turned to leave only to see McGrew standing in the doorway of her room, knife in hand. Her scream pierced the night. 

"So ye'd murder me and just run away, eh," he spoke calmly...coldly as he advanced on the girl. 

"Well I reckon ye're growed enough to find out how it feels," he snarled and plunged the knife into her heart then laughed as he watched her die. 

Pulling the knife from her body as she slumped onto the bed, he turned to leave. There standing in shocked disbelief in the doorway was Kyle. Enraged the younger man sprang at the older but with a practiced ease McGrew sidestepped the charge and drove the knife into his young employee's back. Again he laughed as if at some private joke. 

It was six hours later when Kyle roused himself from the floor to find a bewildered Katelyn sitting on the bed. She looked up in shock and horror as he stood, not understanding the strange sensation that she felt. 

"He was dead...I was dead...you was dead...what...how..." she stammered. 

"My god it's true," Kyle breathed as he sunk to the bed starring at his own hands then at his young friend. 

"What do you mean, what's true?" she questioned in stark confusion. 

"He told me once when he was drunk that he was immortal, couldn't be killed and wouldn't grow old. Said that I would be too one day. I didn't believe him, I thought he was just makin' up tales. He never told me that you would be too," he explained. 

"We gotta leave here. I can't stay here with him...not now...not after..." she started to climb off of the bed when they heard McGrew out on the verandah outside the window snoring in a drunken stupor. 

"Wait Katelyn, there's something I gotta do first," Kyle said. 

He got up and marched purposefully into another room, McGrew's bedroom, and opened a wooden chest at the foot of the bed. Inside wrapped in oilskins were several swords of different types and sizes. Kyle selected a medium weight Spanish made broadsword with razor sharp edges on the gleaming blade. He turned to go from the room and saw that Katelyn had followed him. 

"It'll do no good, he's immortal. He'll just come back to life," Katelyn protested in a hushed voice. 

"Not if I cut off his head. He told me that night that it's the only way to kill an immortal," Kyle whispered in response. 

"Then I'll help. T'was me he violated," she declared. 

Selecting a finely crafted Prussian saber from the chest Katelyn followed Kyle to the verandah. They found McGrew sprawled in a rocking chair with an empty jug on the floor at his feet. He stirred restlessly, feeling the Presence of the two young immortals he opened one bloodshot eye. 

The old immortal looked up into the eyes of the young woman that he had savaged, and he smiled. Then he saw the saber drawn back for the killing stroke and both of his eyes opened wide in shock. He tried to scramble out of his chair only to discover Kyle on his other side with the gleaming broadsword. 

"No...Ye don't know what ye're doin'...Ye can't," his protest was cut short by the simultaneous strokes of the two swords through his neck. 

Not knowing what was to come, the young man stepped over the body and took Katelyn in his arms. They stood with their eyes closed holding one another, not seeing the strange sight behind them. A swirling fog arose from the decapitated body of their dead employer. It flowed into the couple transfixing them with its power as lightning streaked from the clear night air striking them. The windows of the house shattered, the shutters slammed against the walls and ripped from their hinges. A bolt struck the house and the structure burst into flames while another struck the haystack setting it ablaze. 

By the time the powerful quickening had subsided and the couple could move again the house, stable and blacksmith shop were all in flames. Kyle heaved McGrew's body through a shattered window and tossed his head in after. Then they ran to the barn and freed the horses catching up a pair for themselves. Then the newly immortal pair took up their swords and rode away from the conflagration, leaving behind the life and home they had known, not knowing where to go or what to do next. 

* * *

Joe sat up in his chair and keyed a button on the screen with the mouse and read the text that appeared. 

"It says they went to Ireland back to County Down where Kyle O'Leary had first meet McGrew. There they had found a teacher a few years later but they took his head in an argument after he found out they had taken yet another immortal together. As far as we can tell they've killed every immortal they've encountered since, and always take the head together." Joe explained turning to face Mac and Amanda, "If they got a good look at you Amanda they'll be coming for you. They won't want you alive to tell anyone else what you saw." 

* * *

**_Three Days Later_**

The dojo was busy, strong healthy young men worked with the weights on one side of the room; two others worked the heavy bag while Richie worked with another of the members with staves on the mats. Joe had seen Richie work the staff often enough to tell that he was taking it easy on his mortal opponent, and still beating him without much trouble. He watched the footwork wistfully for only a moment then moved on past to the office in the back of the room. 

MacLeod was seated at the desk with the phone to his ear, wearing sweats and looking as if he had just finished a hard workout himself. He looked up when Joe came through the door and held up one finger indicating he would be right with him. 

Speaking into the receiver he said, "Thanks for the info Chuck, I'll talk to you later...Yeah you too...Bye." 

"Any news?" Joe inquired hitching a hip up on the corner of the desk as Mac hung up the phone. 

"Not really, that was Chuck Webb, a private investigator and an old friend. He was checking on the Irish Review to see where they were booked next. He was going to see if the O'Learys were still with the show," Mac explained. 

"Yeah, I know about the show. I just got the report back from our man that went to check them out. The show finished its tour in Portland night before last and the dancers scattered to the four winds. They're supposed to get back together in six weeks to start work on the show for the next tour. He's trying to get a lead on them but they've covered their tracks like pros," Joe supplied. 

"That's what Chuck said. He did find a ticket man at the train station who remembered them but the guy couldn't remember where they were headed. If they were on they're way back here they're probably already in town," Mac informed. 

"I'll put out feelers around town see what we can turn up...By the way, I spoke to the last Watcher to follow the O'Learys. He said they had killed a man who had stumbled into the alley when they were taking the head of Joseph O'Hare. The guy was drunk and probably would've thought he was hallucinating anyway but the Watcher heard them discuss it and they decided they didn't even want rumors about their activities getting out to other immortals. It's a good bet they will be coming after Amanda." 

"So, they got O'Hare. I never meet him myself but Annie Devlin talked about him. He didn't sound like an easy man to kill," the Scotsman mused. 

"Those two have gotten a lot of immortals that shouldn't..." the Watcher's comment trailed off as he looked through the glass out into the dojo and Mac felt the Presence of another immortal. 

MacLeod looked up to see a very angry Amanda storm through the room coming toward the office. She strode with purpose, making no flirtatious gestures no matter how subtle and ignoring the looks of the men in the gym. 

"That's it Mac! I've had it! Those two little sicko lovebirds have chased me all over town. First I feel one then I feel the other then back and forth and I never saw either of them. I HAVE HAD IT!!" she began to rant as she paced the office. 

Coming around the desk the Highlander caught the distraught immortal by the shoulders, saying, "Calm down Amanda." 

Still trembling, she placed her hands on his muscular biceps and stood for a moment, collecting herself. Then she leaned into a gentle embrace, resting her head for a brief moment against his well-muscled chest. 

"What happened?" he asked. "Where did they find you?" 

"I went down town to the bank, I had some business to attend. I stopped at that little sidewalk bistro for lunch and I felt them as they drove by. I left immediately but I felt them again less than a block away and we started this cat-n-mouse game all over town. They were trying to get me somewhere alone I'm sure. It was like they were trying to herd me, harass me until I made a mistake and turned up a blind alley or something," She explained as she pushed gently away from the Highlander and sat down in a visitors chair. 

Joe poured a cup of water from a pitcher on the desk and handed it to her asking, "Did you see their car?" 

"It was a light blue midsize of some kind, I don't know. But I got the license number," she replied accepting the water he offered. 

She fished in the inside pocket of her jacket for a cocktail napkin and handed it to Joe. He looked at it and passed it on to MacLeod. 

Mac looked at the number written there and said, "Probably a rental. I'll get it checked out." 

"How did you get away from them?" Joe asked. 

"I took them on a tour of the Downtown Mall. It has a lot of exits and I waited until I knew they were both behind me then I ducked out and caught the only cab in site," she explained. 

"You can't keep playing hide and seek with them forever, Amanda. Sooner or later you're going to make that wrong turn they're looking for," Mac chided. 

"I know but I can't just hide from them and hope they go away. Besides, they have to be stopped!" she declared rising from her seat and again pacing the office. 

"I have an idea," said Duncan thoughtfully. 

Amanda's pacing subsided and she looked expectantly at the other immortal. 

"Do you think you could lead them another merry chase?" he asked. 

"If I can find them again, probably," she affirmed. "But if you're planning on waiting for them somewhere they'll probably take off as soon as they feel another buzz." 

"Yes, they probably will but I have something else in mind. Let's do some checking around and see what we might be able to set up," he suggested. 

Joe headed for the office door saying, "I can get someone to check out that license plate number." 

"Thanks Joe, you're a pal," Amanda called and threw him a little kiss. 

Joe returned her smile with a quirked grin, told them he would get back to them when he found something out and went on his way. Mac and Amanda headed for the lift to take them to the loft. Richie was finishing up his workout with a martial arts kata designed to simulate a sword battle against multiple opponents. The Highlander stopped to watch his friend and pupil, impressed with the progress he had made in the short years since his becoming immortal and thinking how appropriate that particular kata was right now. 

When Richie was finished MacLeod walked over and spoke quietly with him. He handed Richie the napkin and asked, "Do you still see that girl you were dating that worked at the DMV?" 

"Tanya? Sure sometimes...Oh, I get it...I'll get right on it," Richie said cheerfully. "Anything else?" 

"Yeah, keep that right elbow in tight when you make your pivot to the right," Mac instructed. 

Richie grinned, nodded acknowledgment and headed for the shower. 

* * *

**_Two Days Later_**

Amanda sat again in the sidewalk bistro reading a book and sipping tea. MacLeod had hired a helicopter the day before and they had flown over the city looking for the appropriate site to enact his plan. Richie had come in with a grin on his face and a twinkle in his eye and given Mac the information on the O'Leary's car. As expected it was a rental, but Richie had taken it upon himself to check out the rental agency. The girl at the counter had given him the information about the O'Learys, who were using the name McConnal, and she had given him the hotel they had listed as a temporary residence. He had also apparently made a date with the young woman and was feeling quite full of himself. 

_Well,_ she thought to herself, _the boy can really be quite charming when he wants to._

The hotel it turned out was only a half block from the bistro Amanda had chosen for her unfortuitous lunch two days before. There was a strong likelihood that she would again be spotted by the murderous lovers. Just as she was considering leaving the sidewalk restaurant she again felt the buzz of an immortal Presence. She looked up to see the light blue mid size car at the corner, two people, a man and a woman sat watching her. 

Gathering up her things and leaving a twenty on the table Amanda left the restaurant and headed away from the vehicle. She saw in the reflection from the windows of a large office building across the street, the woman exited the automobile and started to follow. The life long thief was in her element in this game. She turned corners and cut across streets and passed up what she was sure would be the perfect opportunity to lose her pursuers for that was not the game this time. She allowed them to stalk her for the six blocks to the empty building she and MacLeod had chosen to enact their plan. 

Climbing nimbly up the fire escape Amanda was not surprised to find Katelyn O'Leary coming up behind her. Nor was she surprised to find Kyle O'Leary waiting for her on the roof. The immortal couple stalked after her as she retreated to the far end of the building drawing the broadsword from under her coat and shedding the coat as she went. 

With her back to the edge of the roof, the two pursuers came at her from opposite angles cutting off any route of escape. MacLeod watched from the roof of the high-rise parking garage across the alley from the old empty building. Then he made his move. 

The roar of a motorcycle and the intrusion of the buzz of another immortal Presence brought the pair of headhunters up short. The motorcycle leapt forward as the Highlander twisted the throttle and shifted gears. He hit the ramp that he and Richie had set up the previous day and flew into the air in a rainbow arch across the wide alleyway. The motorcycle landed hard but the immortal rider controlled it and slid to a stop between the roof accesses and the trio of immortals set for combat. 

"You Bitch!" screamed Katelyn, and pressed her attack upon Amanda. Prussian saber met Norman broadsword in a shower of sparks as Amanda parried, and countered with a straight thrust only to be parried in her turn. 

Kyle's first impulse was to strike first at their intended prey but he recognized that he would be vulnerable to the newcomer if he attempted to engage the woman. So he turned his Spanish steel to meet the advancing Scotsman. With subtle twists of his wrist MacLeod set his katana into a patented twirl letting his opponent know without doubt that he faced a consummate swordsman. It was with trepidation that O'Leary launched an attack, one that was easily picked off by MacLeod. 

The two pairs of combatants circled one another in a dance of death. Thrust and cuts were parried and dodged and their swords sparked as the power of the respective immortals flowed into their weapons. Mac and Amanda had to pay close attention to their positions knowing that their backs would not be safe from their respective opponent's partner should they get a clear shot. Mac had to lunge to pick off a blow directed at the back of Amanda's head when Kyle retreated, and Amanda, intent on her attack, had ventured too close. Out of position and off balance, MacLeod took a vicious cut across the abdomen and rolled away with O'Leary in pursuit. 

MacLeod came to rest on his knees with his back to his opponent, holding his bleeding stomach. As Kyle O'Leary approached cautiously from behind him MacLeod held is katana, blade tip touching the ground with both hands on the hilt. O'Leary stood posed for the killing stroke only a moment then he loosed the blow only to have it blocked by the ivory handled katana that seemed to come out of nowhere. So quickly that the Irishman could not react, the Highlander spun on his knees bringing the razor sharp katana around in a lightening cut that took O'Leary across the middle. The Irishman loosened his grip and the Spanish broadsword slipped from his hand. He watched in stunned disbelief the Highlander rise to his feet; the katana spun once then came across in a level cut that took his head. 

Katelyn O'Leary danced with her saber, in and out, with her lighter weapon she was quicker than Amanda. But Amanda had not lived almost 1200 years without developing her sword arm, she was stronger than the younger immortal and had tricks of her own. Around and around they fought until Amanda had the advantage, but as she pressed it she suddenly heard the clang of steel close behind her head. The distraction cost her the advantage. The smile on the Irishwoman's face as they fought on told her that something was dreadfully wrong behind her but she could ill afford the moment for a look. Suddenly the smile vanished from Katelyn's face, her mouth dropped open and her eyes flew wide in shock. 

"AAAHHHHHH NOOOO!" Katelyn O'Leary screamed, but her anguished cry died in a strangled gurgle as the Norman broadsword cut cleanly through her neck. 

Amanda turned to face MacLeod, the swords fell from their hands and they each looked into the other's eyes. The clouds of power flowed from the two headless bodies and the two living immortals found themselves levitated into the air flying into each other's arms clutching in an involuntary embrace. The clouds came together and twisted around one another spinning the suspended immortals like marionettes in a slow macabre dance. Then the power formed into the shape of a heart and flowed into the helplessly embracing couple. Bolts of immortal power blasted the fixtures of the dilapidated building; the worn out air conditioner units exploded and the door was blown off of the roof access. The power arced between the immortal couple and flowed through them and into them. They writhed in the grips of orgasmic ecstasy as they were filled with the essence of the two dead immortals. Then it subsided and they collapsed to the rooftop and lay panting, still entangled in one another's arms. 

* * *

**_Epilogue_**

The Next Day 

Duncan and Amanda had made love the night before, which was a fact not so remarkable in and of itself. But this morning they awoke and could not look at one another. There was a certain embarrassment that they had never felt before for they had not seen each other before as they had the previous night. The flashes from the powerful quickening kept forming in their minds, and clawing at their beings. They ate breakfast in silence and MacLeod dressed and went down to the dojo for a morning workout. Richie was there; opening the business for the clients that liked to come by for early workouts. 

"So Mac, I see your plan went well," the young immortal greeted. 

MacLeod did not speak only nodded agreement with a somber face. 

"It did go okay didn't it?" Richie's voice was laced with concern. 

"Yes, Richie, it went well. We won, but I'm not sure yet at what price," Duncan replied cryptically. 

"What do you mean Mac? I mean it was just another light show right?" he quizzed. 

At the look of disapproval from his friend and mentor, Richie continued. "I mean, I know it's not ever just a light show. I know someone dies and all that but it had to be done...Right? I mean, why should it be different than any other quickening I've seen you take?" 

MacLeod took a seat on a mat at the side of the dojo and started stretching muscles in preparation for the workout and Richie did likewise. They were quiet for several minutes then Mac began to explain his feelings about the questions Richie had asked. 

"I don't know Richie but somehow this quickening is different. There are certain things that should not be done and the consequences can be disastrous. You heard Amanda tell what those two did and how obscene she felt it was when she saw it. They knew it was wrong but they could not stop themselves, it was an obsession or an addiction. I don't know how to explain it but it was wrong. They were killing for a gratification that was almost sexual...no it was sexual. They didn't start off as evil but they became evil as they let their obsession take control of their lives. 

"My teacher, Connor, could not tell me all the reasons for all of the rules nor could Ramirez explain it to him, or else he never had the chance. But the point is the rules are there for a reason. Never take them for granted nor set them aside for convenience sake," MacLeod explained. 

Richie nodded his understanding then gestured at the mat with a look of invitation. MacLeod nodded and they stepped to the mat, offered the closed fist covered by open hand salute required of the Northern Shaolin Kung Fu style of martial arts MacLeod was now teaching Richie, and they began their training. 

They were finishing up their session with a round of sword practice when they both felt the familiar tingle of a Presence and the lift stopped on their level. Amanda stepped off of the lift heavily burdened with suitcases. The two men stopped their practice and looked at her questioningly. Richie looked from one to the other feeling a very subtle ebb and flow of immortal power. He excused himself to go get a shower. 

"What is this Amanda?" Mac asked. 

"Duncan, you know what happened last night, how it felt. I think we need to be apart for a while, at least until we have dealt with this quickening...I'll be back, but right now I need to go away for awhile...And I think you need for me to be gone for awhile too," Amanda explained, her voice full of both sorrow and determination. 

"Yes, I do know what you mean. I wish it didn't have to be this way but I understand," MacLeod replied. 

"My car is here," Amanda gestured to the man coming through the front door. 

The driver came in and took the bags out to the car. Amanda started to follow when Duncan caught her hand. She looked around into his eyes. 

"I loved you before last night...I just never said it before," he told her. 

They stood a moment their fingers touching, looking into one another's eyes. Amanda smiled a warm and open smile then turned and walked out leaving Duncan with a sad smile on his face and an ache in his heart. 

* * *

© 1999   
Please send comments to the author! 

04/10/1999 

Moyra's Web Jewels 

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